


Valentines Day One-Shots

by thegreenery



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Again, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Boys in Skirts, Dancing, Deceit is a good boyfriend, Emile is soft, Everyone Is Gay, Fight mention, Forehead Kisses, Gay, Hate Ship - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content (after events), Kinda, Kissing, Lost motivation to keep up with this lmao, M/M, Mention | Clothing Kink, Minor violence mention, Morally Neutral Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Passing Out, Patton falls a little, Patton is soft!!, Remy threw something at Logan but it's only mentioned, Sexual Humor, Sleepy Cuddles, Unrequited Love, Virgil is also soft, arguments mention, barely, but he actually likes it, cursing just a little, logan is Uncomfortable, nose boops, pain kink mention, sleepy Emile, slight self deprecation, virgil is soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22544272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreenery/pseuds/thegreenery
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on prompts from the "Daily Sanders Ship Valentines Challenge" by @ marbar_insta_23 on Instagram. To be updated every three days or whenever I can find time. Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Dr. Emile Picani, Remus/Logan/Patton/Virgil/Deceit/Thomas, Roman/Logan/Patton/Virgil/Deceit/Thomas
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	1. Day One: Prinxiety

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: panic attack, Virgil passes out, Roman is slightly freaking out

Virgil is zoning out. He can feel it. The shadows that he’s usually able to push back are now crawling over his skin, oozing into his lungs and cutting off his air supply. His vision goes black while his lungs pulse, screaming for air. Virgil faintly registers himself falling back against the stairs, the back of his head thudding against the wall. He fights to stay awake but the darkness pulls him down, down, down….

\---

Roman is at Virgil’s side before he even thinks of moving. He cradles the back of Virgil’s head in one hand and wraps the other around his waist to pull the unconscious Side into a sitting position. Roman tries not to think about how limp, how pale Virgil is. He ignores Patton’s and Thomas’ worried rambling and Logan’s barely-steady words of comfort. He ignores the fire racing over his skin at the feel of Virgil’s body in his arms as he pulls him to his chest. Roman doesn’t notice the tears making steady tracks down his cheeks.

“Virgil? Virge, please wake up. Please.” Roman mutters as softly as he can manage. He can feel the beginnings of panic stirring in his veins made worse by the fact that Anxiety himself is passed out cold in his lap. Roman brushes Virgil’s purple bangs back from his forehead and marvels numbly at how soft his hair is. Without thinking, Roman dips his head to press a kiss where his fingers just were. When he pulls back, a pair of mismatched purple and green eyes meet his.

“Hey, Princey?” Virgil’s voice is rougher than normal, the deep gravel sending chills down Roman’s spine. He sucks in a breath.

“Yes, stormcloud?” Roman ignores the slight shake to his own voice.

Virgil’s eyes narrow slightly. “Did you kiss my forehead?”

Roman’s jaw drops. He did, didn’t he? Oops. “I apologize, Virgil, I did not mean to cross any boundaries. I lost myself in worry, I suppose, although that is no excuse. I-”

Virgil interrupts Roman with a crooked smile, the same that stops Roman’s heart in his chest without fail. “Princey. It’s ok.”

“Oh.” Roman swallows. “It is?”

“Yea.” Virgil snorts. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from a prince. Your type seems to have a thing for kissing sleeping people.”

Roman splutters, face hot with embarrassment and realization of how close they have become. “B-but-”

Virgil chuckles this time, eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m kidding. Jeez, you’re so sensitive.” He pauses, but continues before Roman can quite get his bearings. “You can do it again if you want.”

Roman’s eyes widen. “O-oh?”

Virgil rolls his eyes, but his crooked smile hasn’t faded. “Yea. Just do it before I change my mind.”

Roman doesn’t hesitate to press kisses on every inch of Virgil’s face, encouraged by the quiet almost-giggles of the normally reserved Side. Once he has thoroughly smooched his now-not-so-secret-love, he pauses over his lips, the one untouched part of Virgil’s face. Roman glances up to Virgil’s eyes for confirmation and the emo nods, eyes slightly wide and lips barely parted. Roman surges forward, pressing their lips together with an even mix of desperation and softness. He rejoices inwardly when Virgil kisses back, heat warming his skin at every movement of their lips. They kiss for what feels like forever but could only be a few seconds before Roman pulls back, face aflame and pupils blown. 

“Virgil, I-”

“Don’t say anything cheesy or I swear I’m never going to kiss you again.”

This gives Roman pause. “You want to kiss me again?”

Virgil snorts. “Obviously.”

“Oh.” Roman grins. “Oh! I...wow. I would also like to kiss you again, Virgil.”

Virgil tries to seem calm, but the pink of his cheeks gives away how much this statement affects him. “Whatever. Could you help me up? These stairs are really uncomfortable.”

“Of course, my dark prince.”

“Roman-”

“Sorry! Sorry.”


	2. Day Two: Remile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentioned minor violence

Remy shuts the door as quietly as he can. His socked feet shuffle across the carpet of the bedroom he shares with his currently-sleeping boyfriend, Emile. Remy drapes his leather jacket over the nearest bedpost and sets his sunglasses down on the bedside table as he climbs into bed next to Emile. He ignores the slightly-uncomfortable feel of his leather pants pinching his skin as he shifts his arms around Emile and pulls him against his chest as gently as he can.

Unfortunately, Emile is a light sleeper and blinks awake, hazel eyes slow with exhaustion. As tired as he is, Emile manages a soft smile up at Remy and brings his hands up to his chest. “How was work?”

Remy shrugs, planting kisses to Emile’s curls. “Not great, babe. Logan wasn’t too happy about cutting Thomas’ editing short, but I convinced him.” Remy winks and feels a satisfying rush as Emile giggles, blushing.

“You weren’t mean to him, were you?”

Remy shakes his head. “Of course not, baby.” He decides not to mention his moment of weakness that involved throwing an empty Starbucks cup at Logan’s head. “I would never.”

Too much. Emile raises an eyebrow, suspicious. Before he can voice his suspicions, however, he yawns and Remy’s breath hitches at the sight of his adorable boyfriend. How did he get so lucky?

Remy kisses Emile’s curls a few more times then squeezes him in his arms. “I’m sorry I woke you up, baby, you should go back to sleep.”

Luckily, Emile is still sleepy and doesn’t have the energy to argue. “Mkay, Rem. I love you.”

Remy swallows the lump in his throat. “I love you too, Emmie.” He watches Emile drift back off into dreamland until his own eyelids droop. Remy barely registers burying his face in Emile’s curls before he falls prey to his own powers and succumbs to the pull of sleep.


	3. Day Three: Anyone x Deceit (Anxceit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Deceit, sexual humor, implied NSFW (after events of fic), clothing kink mention, self deprecation, slight panic

Three hesitant knocks echo through Deceit’s room. The snake glances up from where he’s lounging on his rock - strategically placed in front of his window, mind you - and waits. Nothing, so Deceit lays back down to attempt a recreation of the comfortable position he had found earlier. 

Three knocks, again, quieter this time. Deceit groans but stands, adjusting his gloves as he crosses to his door. He opens it and immediately softens. “Ah, Virgil. What a surprise.”

Virgil stands in his doorway shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He wears a large black coat that stretches down to the floor and bunches up around his waist. Deceit raises an eyebrow. “Darling? Is something wrong?” Virgil sighs, shutting his eyes tightly.

“This was a mistake. I should go.”

Both of Deceit’s eyebrows disappear behind his hair. “Virgil. What’s wrong, dear?” At the answering silence, Deceit bites his lip and steps to the side. “Come in.” Deceit holds in a sigh of relief when Virgil steps inside of his room, but tenses again when he sees the slight twitching of his cheeks. Virgil’s going to panic, but why? 

“I, uh, decided to try something new and I thought you would be able to...give me feedback.” Virgil mutters in a rush. Just like a bandaid. “If you don’t like it, tell me. Don’t, y’know, lie, ok?”

Deceit can only nod, his curiosity warring with his concern. What could bother Virgil this much? He gets his answer when his boyfriend sucks in a breath and opens the coat, revealing a deep violet skirt with layers of black lace resembling spiderwebs crossing the fabric. Deceit’s eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. Virgil wears his signature patched hoodie as a top, but somehow it fits the skirt in an undeniably Virgil way. Deceit can’t help reaching forward to touch the skirt with his fingertips, shivering at just how soft it is. His mismatched eyes flick up to meet Virgil’s and he hesitates at the fear he sees. 

“Virgil, it’s-”

“Weird, I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should go, I probably interrupted something important.” Deceit holds up a hand to stop Virgil’s rambling. He smiles.

“Darling, you are beautiful. Not weird in the slightest.”

Virgil’s eyes widen just slightly as blush overtakes his face. “What?”

“You. Are. Beautiful.” Deceit smiles wider, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist tight enough to offer comfort but loose enough so he can pull away if he needs. “I love the skirt.”

Virgil swallows, staring pointedly at Deceit’s chest. “Oh. Thanks, I guess.” Deceit nods.

“Of course, my dear.” Deceit slowly circles his thumb on Virgil’s waist and revels in the shiver that produces. He dips his head down, brushing his lips against Virgil’s ear. “You look absolutely ravishing, Virgil.”

Virgil sucks in a breath. “Dee-”

“Yes, love?” Deceit doesn’t move his lips from Virgil’s ear.

“I can’t believe you have a clothing kink.” Deceit chokes even as a part of him relaxes at the joking tone of Virgil’s voice. “I mean,” Virgil continues, his smirk audible, “I should have guessed what with...well...you.”

Deceit chuckles as he tries to mask his embarrassment. “Oh dear, I’ve been found out. Whatever shall I do?”

Virgil pulls back a little to meet Deceit’s eyes. His smirk grows. “Well, I’m always an option.”

Deceit chokes again, human side of his face a deep scarlet. “Virgil-”

“You don’t have to, obviously.” Virgil reassures, confidence dropping slightly. “You can always say no.”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Deceit’s smile returns. “You know, as much as I adore seeing you wearing that skirt, it would look better on my floor.”

Virgil snorts despite himself and rolls his eyes. “Cheesy pick-up lines? Really? You already have me in your room.”

Deceit only shrugs. “You love it.”

Virgil sighs. “That I do.” He smiles. “I love you more.”

Deceit returns the smile. “I love you too, Virgil.”


	4. Day Four: Intrulogical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Remus, pain kink mention (barely), Logan gets (kinda) pinned to his desk, nose boop

Logan enters his room focused on grabbing his journals, pen, and laptop and relocating them to the common room. He doesn’t expect to see Remus sprawled on his bed.

“Hiya, Lolo!~” Remus coos, grinning deviously and waving. Logan ignores him, moving to his desk and unplugging his laptop. An indignant grunt sounds from behind him and suddenly there’s warmth at his back. “I said, hiya, Lolo.” His voice grows slightly sinister, yet Logan continues to ignore him. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” No response, but Logan grows wary. The Duke ‘thinking’ is never good. Remus chuckles. “You gotta feel at least some pain whenever I lovingly attack you. So,” he leans in close to Logan’s ear, whispering, “You must like it.”

Logan scoops up the last of his journals and moves to leave, but Remus’ arms bracket him against the desk. “Let me go, Remus. I have more important things to do than waste time here.” Remus tilts his head, eyes growing dark.

“You’re blushing, Lolo.” Logan turns his head away and Remus grins in triumph. “If you didn’t like it, I would stop, y’know.” His expression grows sincere. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like breaking my favorite playthings.” He boops Logan’s nose, the latter side clenching his jaw in mock disgust even though his body aches to move closer.

“I am not your plaything, Remus, I am not your anything. Let. Me. Go.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, stepping back. Logan keeps his pace calm but his mind is racing with the implications of Remus’ words. On his way out, he can hear Remus say, “I’m always here if you change your mind.” 

He shuts the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one isn't necessarily an established ship, but it was an interesting thing to write with strong implications of future Intrulogical. I might expand this into its own universe or use this scene in another fic, so keep a lookout.


	5. Day Five: Moxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Patton falls a little, soft smooch, panic mention

Patton hums as he cleans, his hips swaying slightly with the rhythm of the music. He slides plates into cabinets and wipes counters down with ease, closing his eyes and twirling when he comes to his favorite part of the song. Patton doesn’t notice the purple-clad Side walking into the kitchen and bumps into him with a yelp.

On instinct, Virgil’s arms wrap around Patton to catch him and he accidentally dips him. Patton’s eyes fly open upon contact and his lips part in a wide grin. Virgil responds with a shaky smile, nerves on edge from secondhand falling anxiety.

“Thanks for catching me, Virge! You could say I’ve fallen for you!” Patton’s bright giggle brings an equally bright flush to Virgil’s cheeks. Warmth blossoms within the emo’s chest and he barely manages to keep a hold on Patton as his fight-or-flight reflex kicks in.

“That was horrible, Pat.” Despite the critical words, Virgil smiles crookedly down at the Side in his arms.

Patton pouts. “Aw. You loved it, you know it.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Yea, but you don’t have to say it.” Patton giggles again and Virgil can’t stop himself from leaning down to kiss him lightly. With a soft sigh, Patton’s eyes flutter shut and he kisses back with equal lightness. They stay there for a while, Patton halfway to the ground and melting into Virgil’s chest, comfortable and warm and happy, content with just being.


	6. Day Six: Roceit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Deceit, hate ship (kinda), arguments/fights mentions, slight cursing

Roman loves it when they fight. Well, fight isn’t the right word. It’s more of a dance; their words twirling and shifting in the air with forceful heat. Their eyes lock across a room, stances steady, and they’re off. Once they begin, only they can end it. If both are truthful - more difficult for one than the other - they love it this way. Roman recognizes this and doesn’t hesitate to congratulate Deceit on his performance after particularly nasty confrontations. Deceit, to Roman’s chagrin, usually disappears without returning the sentiment. Although recently, and this might just be Roman’s hopes clouding his judgment, Deceit has left their...arguments appearing flustered. Nervous. If it wasn’t Deceit, Roman would tease him about it. As it is, Roman knows how dangerous that could be. He doesn’t want to lose this...connection he has to the lying Side. For all of his ‘Dark Side’ posturing, Roman doesn’t truly hate Deceit. Though, he’d never admit it.

Yes, Roman loves it when they fight. But he loves it so much more when they truly do dance.

It began as a form of stress relief. Roman had danced alone on a stage in the Imagination to whatever music came to mind. He wouldn’t follow any rules or steps or customs. He would just move, his body tiring itself out and bringing with it physical exhaustion to match the mind and drag him into sleep. Then, one day, Deceit had been there. Offered to show him how to actually dance, to follow the rules of the society he claimed to loathe so much.

Roman was hesitant at first. They were still enemies then.

Now?

Now, their dances are a regular occurrence. No longer just a way to stretch the muscles and encourage heavy sleep. Roman looks forward to feeling Deceit’s lithe body against his own broad-shouldered mass. He dreams of lifting and dipping and twirling the smaller Side, skin tingling with memories when the visions come forward uninvited during the day. Roman’s blood sings in his veins every time the music starts, every time they take those first steps, every time Deceit looks up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and quick breaths, every time he imagines leaning down those last few inches and pressing his lips to the snake’s. 

Roman loves those dances. He loves the fights, the heat, the battle, the war. He loves the weight balancing his own, the smooth, cool scales against his flushed skin, the ever-present smirk. Roman loves Deceit.

But damn him if he ever admitted it.


End file.
